


All the things I'm left to remember (And the things that lie just out of my grasp)

by Broadway_Bitch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, All the functional families trying to protect cronus, Angst with a sortof happy ending, Asexual Character, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Dualscar being the worst dad, Extreme Trigger Warning, For all the trauma related tags, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Human Cronus Ampora, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV First Person, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rape, Read at Your Own Risk, Trauma Recovery, escaping abuse, remembering trauma, seriously be careful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadway_Bitch/pseuds/Broadway_Bitch
Summary: The thing about growing up in the midst of dysfunction and abuse, is that you don't realize its not normal or ok. That is, until you're faced with someone else's reality. And once you realize that not everyone is treated like shit, it gets harder to just sit there and take it.
Kudos: 11





	1. Inconsistency

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was feeling a certain kind of way when I started writing this. If you're also a trauma survivor read at your own risk, it gets kinda intense. I'm aiming for this to have a sortof happy ending. I might add more tags. The tags I have now are for what I have planned not necessarily what's in this chapter. Thanks for reading.

Much of my childhood is a blur, large chunks of time left blank from the daily atrocities committed by my father. For so many years I just assumed everyone lived in mortal fear of their father. My mother died when I was three, shortly after giving birth to my younger brother. For a while My dad held things together, taking care of Eridan and I, making sure we were fed and clothed. After a year of barely holding on- he broke.

He'd always been an alcoholic but, then everything got so much worse. I was left to fend for myself and take care of a baby. Eventually my father couldn't bear to watch it, and he put my little brother up for adoption. Thankfully he was adopted by a family near by, the Captors. I didn't know them that well yet, but I was happy that he wasn't somewhere far away. I thought maybe things would get better, I was only four, I didn't understand that things had the potential to get so much worse.

You see, my father was of the opinion that as long as I was kept fed and clothed and under a roof, that he could do whatever he damn well pleased. I was old enough to fend for myself for the most part. I learned how to reheat food in a microwave, learned how to pour my own glasses of water. I also learned not to make dumb mistakes. I remember the first time I accidentally broke something. 

I was only four years old, too young to realize that I shouldn't be using the glass cups. When I stepped down from the crate I stood on to reach the sink, the glass slid out of my hand and smashed itself against the tile floor. My father seemed to appear out of thin air at the sound. 

"WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS THAT SOUND YOU MISERABLE TWAT?" He screamed. I froze in place. I didn't know what to say or what to think. He stood there watching me, obviously expecting an answer. My eyes welled with tears as I forced out an answer.

"I-I-I broke it... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It was an accident..." I wrung my hands and looked down at the mess. My father was a terrifying man on a good day, his face scarred- from what I was never quite brave enough to ask, but it made him look that much more menacing. As I looked up at him it was immediately clear that my answer didn't satisfy him in the slightest. 

"YOU KNOW WHAT? IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU START CLEANIN' UP YOUR MESSES." His voice boomed through the quiet room. With glass shards littering the floor he pushed me to my hands and knees, forcing me to pick up all the pieces. Shards of glass stabbed their way under my skin. Tears filled my eyes and spilled on the floor, joining the broken glass in the pool of blood tainted water on the kitchen floor. I carefully picked glass off the floor and placed it in the garbage can he'd placed by my side. All I could do was cry and do as I was told. I don't remember what I was thinking as it happened, when I try to all that comes to mind is the flat-line of terror that I felt as my father loomed over me, arms crossed and a glare resting on his scarred face. It was almost more scary when he said nothing, I almost preferred the screaming. Almost.

Soon enough everything was cleaned up and I looked up at my father, blood streaming from my hands and knees. I wailed as I reached up for him and pleaded for him to make the hurt stop.

"P-please... it hurts.. Daddy it hurts..." He made an expression I couldn't quite place, his eyes crinkled and his eyebrows drew up, creasing his forehead. After a minute of just standing there he picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. My father placed me on the toilet and picked the pieces of glass out of my hands and knees carefully, watching me cry and flinch. Once again he stayed silent. I couldn't read the look on his face but looking back on it, it was probably regret and some form of shame. He grabs the first-aid kit and cleans my cuts with an alcohol swab before grabbing the roll of gauze. After he'd wrapped my hands and knees in gauze he carried me to the living room and held me close to his chest as we watched a childish movie. He was soft with me, petting at my hair as he rocked me back and forth. 

"'m sorry Cro... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry baby boy. It won't happen again, I promise." My father’s voice was so soft, so gentle. I place my hands on his face and press a kiss to his forehead. A small smile forms on my small tear-stained face and I hugged him tight. 

"It's ok... I forgive you Daddy." And I really did forgive him. I thought it would be the last time. I really did. I was so, so very stupid. 

The next time it happened wasn't long after. 

It was a nice day outside, and I was playing in the yard until the sun went down. Ya know like kids do. When I came back in I was covered in dirt and tracked it behind me. A few minutes after I'd settled on the couch he stormed into the living room and dragged me by my hair to the trail of dirt I'd left on the floor. I gripped at his wrist and tried to loosen his grip as he dragged me, but that just made him grip and pull harder.

"What the fuck is this huh? You like making a mess in my nice clean house huh? You like making my life harder? ANSWER ME?" I whimpered quietly and squeezed my eyes shut. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll clean it up! Please... Just let me go..." When he let my hair go I fell to my knees and curled up on the floor. Soon he was hauling me up by my shirt and smacking me across the face 

"What? You think you can just lie there and act pathetic and I'll just let you get away with this bullshit?" He drops me again and walks away. He's not gone long before he's coming back and placing a bucket of cleaning supplies in front of me. "Don't just fucking sit there looking like a stupid little fuck! CLEAN IT UP!" I flinch and nod, grabbing the sponge and a floor cleaner, pouring a little on the floor and scrubbing up the dirt. It doesn't take long, but I'm shaking so much that I accidentally knock over the still open bottle of floor cleaner. Soon the air is filled with the fumes of the bleach based product and my head is swimming with it. After a few minutes the room grows dark around me and I collapse on my side. I don't know what my father does after that. I come too on the couch with him leaning over me and petting at my face. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry. 

"Cronus? Oh thank god..." He leans his head next to me on the couch and I pet his head. My head hurt so bad, the world seemed to be too bright and too overwhelming. I still cuddled close to him though. He held me tightly against his chest and I smiled into his chest, just relaxing in my father’s arms. He whispered apologies to me and I nodded along. I reassured him that it was ok, that I forgave him. I truly did forgive him, after all- he was my father. 

"It's the last time, I promise Cro, I promise." He cried over me that night, tucked me into bed with him. By morning the cleaner was gone and the mess was cleared. My father cooked me breakfast and worried over me all day. My head still hurt and I felt dizzy, but it was the happiest day I'd been able to remember. I was always so happy when my father would pay attention to me like that. It was nice. He paid attention to me whenever I was sick, cared for me. The next day I was feeling better, but when I went to get my fathers attention, it was back to him pretending I didn't even exist, which in hindsight was far better than the alternative. 

I could entertain myself for the most part, I liked to read. I'd curl up on the couch and just read for hours, making myself as scarce as possible. Moving when my father came into the room, sequestering myself away in my bedroom instead. Books provided me something I didn't even know I needed: an escape. My favorite books were the fantasies, the imaginary worlds full of imaginary problems. I loved books that had magic. I could whisk myself away from all the hurt and confusion in the pages of a good book, pretending I was somewhere far better than the place I actually was. Sometimes when my father would go off yelling at me or hitting me, I'd imagine I was in the fantasy worlds of my books. And everything would feel alright. I thought everything was fine, that this was just the way things were for everyone. By the age of five I'd learned the unspoken rules of the house. 

rule one: Stay out of my father’s way. Unless I was sick or badly hurt, I was to keep to myself. He was a busy man after all. He often closed himself in his study for days at a time, so he must have been working right? 

rule two: Stay quiet. If I made too much noise my father would often burst into whatever room I happened to find myself in and immediately make me sit still and be quiet, often by force. If I played and he could hear me then I was being too loud. 

rule three: Clean up your messes- before he saw them. My father was a stickler for keeping things pristine. If I made a mess it was best to fix it before he ever noticed. I figure now it was because he was military, he got used to everything being a certain way. Which leads me to

rule four: Your bed better be made, and military style.sheets always folded perfectly around the mattress, blankets always tucked under. 

rule five: Never talk back. It only made things worse. Anger turned into rage, a smack in the face turned into being beaten with a belt. 

rule six: Don't cry. See rule five. 

rule seven: It ain't anybody else's business what happens in our house, so don't go runnin' your mouth. This rule was the only rule he'd actually told me. 

rule eight: Touching any of my mother’s things was absolutely forbidden. the worst of my beatings came from learning this particular rule. Don't touch her things, and don't bring her up. 

So I tried my best to read between all the unspoken lines, learned all of his habits and which ones meant what. When he stalked through the house and examined counters, he was looking for an excuse to unleash his rage on me. Time to hide. When he would zone out for hours on end watching tv and drinking, he was trying to drown out the memory of my mother. During these times his eyes would often linger on me, like somehow if he focused hard enough I might turn into her. Most of the time he looked vacant though, walking through the house like a ghost, and I was his shadow. 

I was kept isolated and away from other people for years, up until I started school, and on the first day I met a boy, his name was Kankri Vantas. He was strange, shy around most people, but once you got him talking he never really stopped. I didn't talk to him at first, but then again I didn't talk to anyone. After so many years of making myself as small as I possibly could, being around so many other kids was weird and overwhelming. I preferred to sit in the corner by the book shelves and read at recess. That's how I initially met him. He sat next to me and started reading a book, and for a while that's what we did together. We sat and read, but didn't talk.

After a few weeks of that we were paired up together to work on an assignment together, I don't remember it- and we ended up not doing it in favor of just talking about a book we'd both read. I remember the way his face was so animated- and the way he talked with his hands was funny to me. He was my first real friend, and from that moment, we were absolutely inseparable. No matter what happened from there on in, I knew at least one person who thought I was worth something, and I clung to that like a lifeline. 


	2. An Entirely New Concept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cronus Has dinner at Kankri's house, and learns that maybe the way things are at his house aren't exactly normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um... Don't mind me this is really just a fic for me to dump all of my feelings about trauma into. But either way if you're reading it I hope you like it.

I remember the first time that it occurred to me that maybe the way things were at my house wasn’t normal. I was eight years old.

In the weeks leading up to my grand realization I’d been spending more and more time with Kankri. For a few years we only saw each other at school, but somehow we were always put in the same class, so it worked out. We’d read books together and ignore the rest of the kids together. They were mean and we didn’t need them anyway. After a while he started inviting me to spend time playing at the park near his house. We’d play for hours, any game we could think of. My favorite thing we did there was to sit on the swing sets and talk. Well, mostly he’d talk and I’d nod along. I liked it like that, I never had to worry about accidentally saying something I shouldn’t, and he got to talk about all the things he was passionate about. His dad was always there, watching over us until it was time to go home. 

Mr. Vantas was a kind man, he had tanned skin, jet black hair, and hazel eyes- just like Kankri did. He had crows feet around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled, which was often. He always asked me how I was and if I was keeping out of trouble, and walked me home after we were done playing in the park. I think he was just happy Kankri had a friend. For a long time we were the only friends the other had, but we were content with that. 

In those weeks my father had barely gone shopping for food, so I’d only been eating once a day at school, and it was starting to show on my frame. I was always skinny but now it was becoming noticeable that something was wrong. 

“Hey Cronus? Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Mr.Vantas looked down at me and gave me a kind smile, the kind meant to disarm someone and put them at ease. He always made me feel so safe, so I’d nodded yes. 

“Ok. I guess so.” I knew it was dangerous to say yes to a request like that, but… maybe this once it would be ok. Mr.Vantas looked down at me and ruffled my hair. It felt so nice, it was different than when my father did it, there was no tone of apology about it, it was just a small affection. In hindsight he was probably trying to find a way to phrase his question that wouldn’t make me clam up and run away. 

“ I was wondering if you’d like to come over to our house for dinner sometime. I know Kankri would really like to have you over, isn’t that right?” He looked over at his son who was smiling brightly. 

“Yeah! You can come over and I can show you all around our house! You can meet my brother and I can show you all our books and we can cuddle our cats!” He babbled on for a while and I just agreed. His dad looked down at me for an answer and I felt my stomach go cold. 

“I need to ask my dad if it’s ok…” I explained. Mr. Vantas just nodded. We arrived at my door and he knelt down to give me a hug goodbye. 

“Well, tell Kankri what he says at school tomorrow and if he says yes you can come over for dinner, how does that sound?” It was an out. I nodded and hugged him tight.    


“I’ll ask.” He pulled back from me and nodded, he seemed satisfied with my answer. I’d ask. I was always a bit weird about touching people, but I always gave him a hug goodbye after we hung out I squeezed him tight and smiled at him as his dad took his hand and started guiding him further down the street. They didn’t live far from my father and I, just at the end of the road. 

I walked through the door of my house and for the first time in years, I sought out my father. He was in his study, doing what I usually did to fill my time, reading a thick book. He looked at me over his reading glasses. 

“The fuck do you want?” His tone was harsh as always but there was a distinct lack of malice to it. Maybe there was hope. So I took a few steps forward and wrung my hands together, a nervous habit I’d had for years now. 

“My friend invited me to have dinner at his house tomorrow and I really wanna go daddy please?” he let out a sigh and put down his book on his desk. He looked at me for a moment and closed his eyes. 

“No.” It was as much as he usually said, but I was picking a battle here. I wanted to go so badly. 

“Why not? You never let me do anything! I never ask for anything please?” I brought my hands up to my chest and formed fists getting ready to fight if I needed to.

“Because you’re gunna go run your stupid little mouth and get yourself in a whole mess of trouble like you always do. Is that what you want?” He glared down at me and stood to posture over me. As threatening as my father was I stood my ground. I looked up at him with a stubborn expression and crossed my arms over my chest as I’d seen him do so often. 

“I won’t say anything! I never do, not in all the time I’ve hung out with Kankri! Not ever! I’m not gunna get in trouble! Please just let me go over! I’ll come right back home and everything!” My father seemed to deflate seeing that I wasn’t going to drop it any time soon, so he sat back down and gave a long sigh. 

“Fine. But if Silas hauls your ass back home because you did something stupid then you ain’t ever seein that kid again you understand me?” He gave me a hard look that made me feel cold down to my bones. I nodded and my face lit up with excitement, forgetting myself I rushed over and hugged my father hard around his stomach, pressing my face into the rough fabric of his white button down shirt.

“Oh! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! I won’t fuck up I promise! I’ll be so good! And I won’t say anything I shouldn’t I promise! Thank you!” He just gave me an awkward pat on the back of my head before pulling me away from him. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re on thin ice kid, now get out, I’ve had enough a yer whinin’ for one day.” I nodded and scurried back to my room without another word. I pulled a book out of my bookshelf and laid on my bed for the next few hours just getting lost in another world. I was so excited. I’d actually get to go! It took me forever to fall asleep that night. I was so excited to actually be allowed to go somewhere new. 

The next day I woke up vibrating with anticipation. I readied myself for school in record time and damn near sprinted the entire mile and a half to the school. As usual I settle myself in the brightly decorated classroom and close my eyes to get a few more minutes of sleep before the day truly starts. After dozing for a few minutes I feel a gentle hand card through my hair, I look up and smile when I see the golden hazel eyes of my best friend. 

“Good morning Cronus.” His tan freckled face was soft around the edges. As I sat up he let his hand drop away from me. 

“mornin’ Kan.” His face bent to a little pout and he tangled his fingers in the overly large sweater he always wore. 

“I told you Cronus! I don’t like nicknames!” He was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, and I never got tired of teasing him mercilessly. 

“But you have such a nicknameable name! It’s not fair.” I smirked up at him for a moment as he got all red in the face. “Ok, ok Kan _ kri _ . I’m sorry. I’m just messin with ya.” Kankri slid into the seat next to mine and just pouted at me for a minute before he let it go. 

“Oh! Can you come over tonight? You asked right?” He smiled and leaned forward towards me. I nodded and smiled at the exuberant boy to my right. 

“I asked. My dad said I could come over!” I rested my head on my desk and let my eyes fall closed again. I hear Kankri wiggle excitedly in his seat. 

“Yes! I can’t wait! I’ve wanted you to come over forever!” It was true, I’d been invited over to Kankri’s house several times, but whenever I asked My dad always said no. It usually ended in a fight. Well, fight is a nice word for it. Mostly he just screamed in my face about being a needy little fuck who was never satisfied with what I had. 

With that, class had officially started. School passed by relatively quickly that day to my surprise. And once the last bell rang Kankri was dragging me out the door, his hand grasped tightly onto mine. He led me out of the school building out to where his dad’s car was waiting out front. We climbed into the back seat of the car and sat to either side of where Kankri’s baby brother napped in a car seat. I placed my bag on the floor near where my feet dangled, just barely unable to touch the floor. 

“Hey boys! Did you have a good day today?” He asked as he peered back at us in his rear view mirror. 

“Yes!” We chorused together. Mr.Vantas just laughed as he pulled out of the pickup line. I couldn’t help but feel anxious as he started to drive. What would his house be like? Would it be too big and too clean like my house? Back then, to my mind, all families were the same behind closed doors. But Mr.Vantas was nicer than I’d ever seen my father act towards anyone. It was a short drive back to their house, much shorter than the half an hour it took me to walk to school. As he pulled into the driveway I pulled my backpack into my lap and slid out of the car. The house was smaller than the one I called home, but looked much cozier, it was painted a soft tan and had red trim on it. Everything about it screamed ‘home’ to me. Kankri led me inside as his father grabbed Karkat out of the back.

The inside of the house as cozy as the outside looked, a comfy looking, worn couch sat in the den across from where a TV hung above the fireplace, the carpeting in the room was scratchy and tightly woven. Kankri dragged me through the house and showed me every room, the Kitchen , the dining room, the living room. He led me up the stairs and showed me all the bedrooms and pulled me into his. His room was my favorite, though, it was lined with bookcases and the walls by his bed were covered in hand drawn pictures. He had an old looking wooden work desk that was covered in scratches and pencil marks, it felt nice when I ran my hands over it. Everything about this home seemed so different than my own, it was almost like a culture shock. 

Mr. Vantas came to check on us a few minutes later, after having gotten Karkat settled in his own room, still down for the nap he was taking. Kankri babbled about him to me often, so far I had found out that he was four years old, only a year younger than Eridan, and that he was always grumpy and had a crab plushie that he carried with him everywhere he went. Kankri’s father found us sitting on the floor by the foot of Kankri’s bed, looking at an animal encyclopedia that he had. He crouched down next to us and steadied himself against the bed. 

“I know you boys are excited to spend time together, but you both still have homework that needs doing, so get to it. It should go much quicker with the both of you working on it.” Kankri whined a bit and pouted at his dad and I felt my chest tighten in fear for him. I was already pulling my books out of my bag and trying not to make eye contact with him. But the violence and screaming I was expecting never came. Mr.Vantas just ruffled Kankri’s hair and gave him a stern look. “C’mon, you know the deal, homework before play.” Kankri nodded and pulled his backpack into his lap, laying out everything we had to do for homework, which was really only a few worksheets. 

“Okay…” The pout was clear in his voice and I sat perfectly still and watched as he left the room. I was so sure in that moment that he’d round on us again, come back and make sure we knew our place, but he didn’t. Kankri didn’t seem anything more than a little put out that we were interrupted, didn’t seem to be scared of anything bad happening. My heart was still racing as we started our work. My handwriting looked far worse than usual as my hands just wouldn’t stop shaking. As I fell further and further behind Kankri in getting the work done he started to notice. 

“Cronus, what’s wrong?” Kankri asked as he leaned over to examine my face, which must have been pale as a ghost at that point. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just shook my head.

“Nothing… I just- got distracted that’s all.” I gave him a small reassuring smile even though adrenaline was still rushing through my veins. He seemed to accept that and just slid his paper over to me, helping me catch back up to where he was. I calmed a bit after that. The work wasn’t that hard and having someone to help me for once had made it go by much smoother than it usually did. 

We spent the next few hours curled up on the floor together building towers out of blocks and occasionally knocking them over when we were done. It was fun, but every time they crashed to the floor I eyed the doorway, expecting someone to barge in and yell at us for being too loud, but it never happened. We chatted and laughed and made up little stories as we played. After a while Kankri’s Dad came in to let us know it was time for dinner. Kankri nodded at him and got up off the floor and motioned for me to follow. 

We all settled at the small dining room table, Karkat poised in a booster chair next to Mr.Vantas, Kankri and I sitting at his other side. Mr Vantas serves us and then they do something strange I’d never seen anyone do before. They joined hands and bowed their heads. It was strange to me, and I didn’t know what to do except follow their lead. Mr.Vantas later explained to me that it was called praying, and it was something people do when they believe in a God.

Dinner passed with casual conversation and a small bit of teasing from Mr.Vantas, it was comfortable, fun. I felt at ease in a way that I’d never quite felt at my own house. It was easy to be with them, I never quite understood the big hurrah about family until then. Then it was time to clean everything up. Mr.Vantas would clean them, but we had to clear the table and put everything in the sink. Kankri and I sat chatting for a while before we actually moved to do it, I took two and Kankri took the other two, we were messing around a little, playfully poking fun at eachother. I felt elated, but then I missed the step up to the kitchen, and by the time I’d realized my mistake I was already pitching forward and falling onto the floor. 

My brain flat-lined as I heard the noise of shattering ceramic. My ears rang with a high pitched whine and everything moved in slow motion after. 

I panicked. I scrambled to try and pick up all the pieces and clean it up before Mr.Vantas saw. I was shaking and cut my hands on the ceramic as the jagged pieces slipped out of my shaking hands. But I couldn’t fix it. He appeared around the corner within seconds and I froze, tears streaming down my face as I scramble backwards until I hit the wall. I’m vaguely aware of the way I keep saying that I’m sorry. I curled up into the smallest little ball that I could manage and hid myself away from him. 

Mr. Vantas just sat there stunned for a moment, not sure what to do. He reached out and pet my head gently, softly saying that it was ok. That he wasn’t mad, accidents happen. I shook my head and whimpered softly. I heard him send Kankri out of the room before he pulled me into his arms nice and tightly, holding me close to his chest as he rocked me back and forth until I’d calmed down. 

Once I was capable of words again, I started apologizing again. He just shushed me. 

“It’s alright Cronus, they’re just plates… Just things, I can replace a couple of plates. Can I look at your hands sweetie? You’re bleeding.” He speaks softly and slowly, pulling my hands away from my chest carefully and examining the cuts there. He picks me up and places me on the kitchen counter, washing my hands carefully. At this point they’d stopped actively bleeding, just a little red, but he put some bandages on them anyway and gave me a hug as he helped me down from the counter. “Why don’t you go find Kankri and get settled ok? I’ll get this all cleaned up.” I nodded and scurried out of the room to find Kankri, who was sitting on the couch, wringing his hands anxiously. He ran up to me and hugged me tight 

“Cronus, are you ok? What happened? Did you get hurt?” He worried over me and I couldn’t answer, I just hugged him tighter and tears leaked out of my eyes onto his sweater. To his credit he didn’t ask anything else, just said “You looked really scared. I thought you got really hurt…” I shook my head and pulled back a little. 

“No, I’m ok Kan, just cut my hand a little.” He nodded and rubbed lightly at the bandages. He didn't even try to correct me on my use of a nickname.

“Why’d you try to pick it up? Dad says not to try to clean up stuff like that, it’s dangerous… Why’d you do that?” 

I was lost for words. Too young to explain the complexities of the way my father treated me- the way the reactions weren’t logical just ingrained. “I-I… I don’t know…” The words were quiet. A lie. I did know- but I didn’t know how to say it. 

Kankri’s eyes shone with barely held back tears threatening to spill over his sparsely freckled cheeks, sniffles interrupted his words “Well don’t do it again ok? I thought you were hurt really bad. I don’t like it when you’re hurt.” His cheeks reddened a bit at that, from frustration or affection or anger I didn’t know. But he looked so upset. 

“I won’t do it again, I promise. Sorry I scared you Kan.” I knew at the time that it wasn’t a promise I could keep, but watching him nod and relax a bit, tears finally falling made me feel better. 

We spent the next couple of hours watching a movie quietly on the beat up old couch in the livingroom, two cats cuddled up to us and purring softly at the affection we were giving them. Eventually though, all good things must come to an end- it was time for me to go home. Mr.Vantas had told Kankri to hold down the fort while he walked me home, it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes that he’d be gone anyway. As we walked there was a tension that I couldn’t quite explain until he crouched down to me about half way to my house. “Cronus are you… Alright?” The question was loaded, I could feel the double meaning behind it even if I couldn’t decipher it. So I just gave him a weird look.

“Yeah, I’m okay… My hands hurt a little but they’re fine.” Mr.Vantas just nodded at me and pet at my cheek. 

“You know Cronus… If you’re ever not okay- it’s okay to tell someone. It’d be okay to tell me if you weren’t really okay.” I then understood what he’d meant. He knew. I hadn’t even said anything but he knew. Terror rushed through me and I shook my head as hard as I could, only to be soothed by gentle hands and a soft voice. “Shhh, It’s alright. It’s alright. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I peaked up at him and in the quietest voice I could manage, speaking in the softest whisper I could. Like my father would somehow still be able to hear me from down the road. I said

“Please don’t tell! Nobody’s supposed to know… He’ll get so mad if he knows someone knows- Please don’t tell. I’m okay I promise.” Mr.Vantas looked so sad then. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He seemed to be thinking about his next words very carefully before he eventually spoke.

“I’ll make you a deal. I won’t tell- but you come over my house at least once a week so you have somewhere safe ok? And you gotta tell me if something bad happens to you, and I’ll help you.” It seemed like a good deal, so I agreed. It was a safe deal. After that he walked me the rest of the way home, dropping me off at the door and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. 

“Thanks for walking me home!” was all I said before I scurried inside and holed myself up in my room for bed. 

It was as I was drifting off that night that I first wondered why my dad wasn’t like Mr.Vantas. Where he was cruel and unforgiving, Mr.Vantas was kind and understanding. Where my father hurt and left me, he protected and held me. None of it made any sense to my young mind. For the first time it crossed my mind that what happened in the walls of my home wasn’t normal, but it was far too late to be thinking such things- and soon, I was asleep. Consciousness lost to the comforting void of the dark. 

The next few months I'd fallen into a routine: Go to school, hang out at Kankri's after to get homework done, eat dinner, and head home to my fathers house as it was getting dark. It was never questioned, and my father didn't seem to care that I was around less- or he didn't notice. Either way, it worked. Mr.Vantas would worry over me and treat me like one of his own, often pulling me aside to talk to me alone, make sure I was alright. Wrapping my cuts and soothing my bruises when I wasn't. For the first time in my life, I understood what unconditional love was. 


End file.
